The House on Rectory Lane Read online

  Stuart James

  The House on Rectory Lane ∞∞∞∞

  This book is dedicated to my sister, Catherine Dunne, who at the time of writing this, is

  severely ill ~ You are my hero and inspiration and I love you more than life.

  Also a huge thanks to my wife and best friend, Tara, who, along with the birth of my children has

  been the greatest thing to ever happen to me. You support me in everything I do and are always

  there for me. Granted, you need lots of patience to deal with me, as everyone says, but I’m so glad

  I am spending my life with you and love you more than anything in this world.

  I also want to big up my kids, Oli and Ava, who are both a credit to Tara and myself and we love

  you so very much.

  A big mention to my mum and dad, Jimmy and Kathleen, who are a light in my every day.

  Thanks to the main man, John (Stretch) McCarthy for your advice and great knowledge on this

  book.

  Also, to everyone who has chosen to read The House on Rectory Lane, I can’t thank you enough. ∞∞∞∞

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  If you enjoy this book, please let me know, and others.

  Also, please, could I ask you to rate and review it as it helps me to get known.

  I am on several social media sites where you can contact me and would love your feedback.

  Twitter @stuartjames73

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  Goodreads Stuart James

  Instagram stuartjamesauthor Prologue

  Chapter-One

  Chapter-Two

  Chapter-Three

  Chapter-Four

  Chapter-Five

  Chapter-Six

  Chapter-Seven

  Chapter-Eight

  Chapter-Nine

  Chapter-Ten

  Chapter-Eleven

  Chapter-Twelve

  Chapter-Thirteen

  Chapter-Fourteen

  Chapter-Fifteen

  Chapter-Sixteen

  Chapter-Seventeen Chapter-Eighteen Chapter-Nineteen

  Chapter-Twenty

  Chapter-Twenty-one Chapter Twenty-two Chapter-Twenty-three Chapter-Twenty-four Chapter-Twenty-five Chapter-Twenty-six Chapter-Twenty-seven Chapter-Twenty-eight Chapter-Twenty-nine One Week Later

  Epilogue

  The grass isn’t always greener on the other side. Sometimes it’s bloodstained.

  The House on Rectory Lane

  Prologue They reached the trees together, clasping their arms around the rough bark, clinging on for dear life. The two of them were exhausted, but they knew they couldn’t stop for long. If only it were a fun run, Tough Mudder or maybe even paint balling. How they both wished

  it was something different to what they were experiencing.

  It felt like they had been running for hours.

  The forest was so dark, apart from the torch in the distance they saw every once in a while.

  It hadn’t been visible for a good ten or so minutes, the bright glare slicing through the dark forest blinding them, their cue to duck, hide, run. The house was now in the distance. Maybe half a mile away. They needed to make it there.

  Listening for any movement, she turned to her husband. ‘What now?’ ‘We wait. That’s all we can do. Give it another few minutes just to make sure it’s safe; then we make a run for the house.’

  She was nodding her head whilst gasping for breath.

  After a few minutes, they steadied themselves.

  It was silent. Calm even.

  She burst into tears.

  ‘Where the hell are the kids. What do you think they’ve done with them?’ Her husband never answered.

  She turned, still clinging to the tree, focusing across the mist. He wasn’t there.

  ∞∞∞∞

  She ran through the house, screaming their names, but the place was empty. Her family were gone. She could sense it. Dashing from the living room to the utility, then the kitchen, she opened the back door. The place was still. Void of life. Slamming the door behind her, she raced back through the downstairs hall. The grandfather clock chimed, echoing through the house, announcing 11.00 p.m., then the chimes.

  Dong.

  Dong.

  Her head vibrated with the clunks. She could see the cobwebs rattle on the side of the big

  face. It always bothered her. The clock gave a haunting feeling – like it was possessed. Bringing bad luck. The house seemed so full when the rest of her family were here, although she never appreciated it enough when they were all around.

  Where the hell were they?

  Her heart was beating much faster than it should as she made her way through the hall in a daze, a shadow developed in the distance.

  She spun around.

  Someone was charging towards her from the kitchen.

  The light of the camera they were holding glaring into her eyes.

  The person was holding what looked like a crowbar.

  ‘No. God no. Don’t do this!’

  She fell at the bottom step, her hand reaching the side of the bannister, pulling herself up she took the stairs two at a time.

  At the top, she spun around. The intruder was already halfway up. Making her way through the upstairs, she reached the end bedroom and slammed the door. She screamed out. ‘Help! For God’s sake, someone help me!’

  She listened.

  Silence.

  The door moving suddenly.

  Someone was kicking it in.

  BANG!

  BANG!

  When they bashed it down, she backed away, against the wall.

  The intruder slowly made their way across to her.

  Chapter-One

  Jake slammed on the brakes. He’d been lucky not to knock the elderly man down, but he stepped onto the road in front of him, so what could he do? He wound the window down and noticed the extreme heat – even though it was only half past seven in the morning, it was unbearable. The air con, which had been fully charged a couple of weeks ago, blasted out. He liked to be in control. That’s the way he’s always been, dropping the car into the local garage, even though the chilly air blowing out through the vent had been cold enough to cause anyone else to shiver, Jake had to have it topped up as far as it could go.

  The dust from the street rose around his head as he noticed a stream of heat coming from the melting tarmac glistening in front of him, a hazy sheet blurring in the distance. BBC radio weather reports were warning people to wear sunscreen. Highs of ninety-five.

  The old man was wheeling a trolley with what looked like a load of cardboard, now scattered all over the road like a giant jigsaw puzzle. The man had a woollen hat pulled down over his head, a long, brown coat, which hung from his arms and his left boot had a couple of dirty toes on display. Jake thought he looked about seventy. The trolley was lying on its side, the wheels still spinning.

  ‘Hey, you OK?’ ‘What’s it look like, arsehole?’ He shouted as a few onlookers smirked to themselves while rushing up and down the street making their way to work. They knew better than to get involved.

  ‘I’m sorry, – you did step out in front of me though.’

  ‘Fuck you,’ was the old guy’s response as he gave Jake the finger.

  Jake left the engine running and stepped out of the car.

  ‘Here, let me help you.’

  What’s this guy’s problem? Just pick up the contents and help him on his way. Maybe hand him a couple of coins, poor guy. Jake lifted the trolley onto its wheels and started to fill it with the cardboard that had been spilt. As he did, the old man pulled a knife out from under his coat and shouted, ‘I’m finishing
you man! Come on, let’s have it out!’

  Jake froze. He had two choices, tackle the guy or run to the car and get the hell out of there. He weighed up the possibility of making it to his vehicle; the traffic was almost at a standstill, a typical Tuesday morning on the Holloway Road, but it was slowly moving. Edging forward.

  He heard horns filling the morning air, and people behind him were getting agitated. Engines revving. Exhaust plumes chucking out more pollution like a smoke screen at a nightclub.

  He could tackle the guy, but he knew he was risking getting severely injured. The man was small, elderly, and had a whiskey odour seeping from his clothes and breath.

  Jake decided to run for it and take his chances. The traffic had pushed forward, and there was now a gap in the road, enough time for Jake to get away. If the old guy came after him, he could turn off one of the side streets and go another way. Jake darted towards his vehicle and jumped into the driver’s side. He left the seatbelt off and hit the accelerator at the same time as releasing the handbrake. He pulled away and watched in the rear-view mirror as the old guy wheeled his trolley to the other side of the road.

  ∞∞∞∞ ‘You say we can view it this weekend?’

  ‘Yes, everything seems in place, Kate. I think you’ll love it. It’s just what you guys have

  been looking for.’

  ‘I’ve had a look on the Internet and it seems too good to be true.’

  Kate’s mother was pottering around between the kitchen and hall.

  ‘Well, believe me, it is,’ replied the estate agent. ‘It’s been unoccupied for a while now,

  something to do with a cockup on the landlords part: five bedrooms, three bathrooms – one an en

  suite – a drive, garage, and a huge garden which backs onto woodland, what more could you ask

  for?’

  ‘What about the neighbours?’ Asked Kate.

  ‘Just coming to that. We’ve spoken with the landlord and they have assured us the neighbours are great. No problems with them. There’s a family about a hundred or so yards down from

  the house. They had the same idea as you a few years ago and made the move. I think they have a

  couple of older children, then there’s a couple the other side, roughly about the same distance, a few

  other residents scattered nearby. The village has a couple of quaint country pubs and shops; you’ll

  love it, Kate, trust me.’

  I hope you’re right. Remember what he’s up to. Selling it to us before we even get there. ‘Jake will be over the moon,’ Kate stated. ‘He’s had enough of London, and he can’t wait to

  get out.’ Kate’s mum was standing just behind her, earwigging as usual. Kate brought the phone to

  her other ear, turning into the wall.

  ‘It will need a lot of work, Kate, I don’t want to put you off, the landlord is more than happy

  for you to make any improvements but I’m sure you’ll get there in no time, a lick of paint, bit of

  decorating, maybe some new flooring, but nothing major.’

  ‘Excellent,’ replied Kate. ‘I’m going to call Jake now. You said to meet around 11ish?’ ‘That’s right, yes, it will give you guys enough time to get here and have a good look round.

  I think it’s about three hours door to door; I’ll see you both then.’

  ‘Mummy, Mummy, come and look what I’ve drawn.’

  ‘Hang on, Sean, Mummy’s just on the phone.’

  ‘Come now; I want to show you!’

  ‘Sean, please, what have I told you about when I’m talking? Can you please wait?’ She

  looked at June. ‘Mum. Please, give me a minute.’

  June brought Sean into the other room where he began to jump on the sofa. Kate could hear

  him humming a nursery rhyme at the top of his voice as he bounced.

  ‘Look, I have to go, but we’ll see you on Saturday, I’m looking forward to it.’ Kate hung up and made her way into the living room, inspecting Sean’s drawings. Once she

  had praised him and assured him that he would be a world-famous artist when he grew up; Kate

  made her way into the kitchen to cook some breakfast for the three of them. Sean only ever wanted looped spaghetti, they had a huge stockpile in the cupboard. After eating, Kate sat down with him and put on CBeebies, his favourite channel. He loved Little Red Tractor and could mimic all the characters. Sean was a real handful. He was five years old and hyperactive beyond belief. She never

  got a minutes’ peace.

  She and Jake had been into the school many times because of his overactive behaviour. It

  was now the summer holidays and they needed to move. They wanted their son to grow up in a quiet village. Somewhere safe. The hustle and bustle of living in a major town was one of the main

  reasons they wanted to leave.

  She battled with everyone: the bin men for not taking their rubbish because there’d been a

  can in the wrong container, or the bin hadn’t been left out on the street far enough. The neighbours

  moaning at her if the bin was too far on the road. The noise most evenings as the drinkers spilt out

  from the noisy bars, singing on the streets until the early hours, urinating and kicking bottles up and

  down the street. The constant traffic which was unavoidable, as they lived on a high street. The parking problems.

  The traffic wardens.

  The crowds.

  The list went on and she and Jake were at their wit’s end and almost at breaking point. They

  never signed up for this three years ago when they first viewed the house. Kate lived in the East

  End before she met Jake, and thought North London was a great idea, how wrong she had been.

  Jake persuaded her at the time and told her she’d love it. He had also had enough now. They’d met on a night out years back at the Ship in Camden. They were introduced by a

  friend of a friend, so to speak, they spent the evening together and hit it off. Ever since, they’d been

  inseparable.

  June entered the kitchen. ‘So, you’re really going to do it?’ Kate handed her mum a coffee. ‘We have to, Mum. You can visit as often as you want. We have to leave.’ June walked over and put her arms around her daughter.

  ‘If it’s what you want, then I’m happy for you both. I just hope you are doing it for the right

  reasons.’

  Kate loved having her mum around. Not just for the company but she was so involved with

  Sean. ‘Anyway, it’s only an hour or so from where you are, so it’s around the same distance. As

  soon as we’re settled, you can stay as long as you like.’

  ‘I’d love that.’

  ∞∞∞∞ Jake sat on a side road off Camden High Street, outside a cafe that was full to the brim with people dashing in and out, sipping on their morning lattes and staring at the pavement below them. It was still so early in the morning, but London was spilling out crowds of people from every doorway, corner, and street. Jake sat looking at the packed city and just held his head in his hands. He rubbed the stress from his face and looked at himself in the mirror. After he had let the wave of anxiety leave him, he punched in Kate’s number and waited for her to pick up.

  ‘Hi, darl, you OK?’

  ‘Not really, one of those mornings, you know. How are you and Sean?’

  ‘He’s watching telly, and I’m about to start tidying up. Mums a help but she’s under my

  feet.’ They laughed. Looking at the state of the living room Kate said, ‘it’s times like this I wish we still had a cleaner.’

  Jake went on to describe the event that had just taken place.

  ‘No. Oh my God. Did you report him?’

  ‘He’s long gone now. What’s the point?’

  ‘Oh, you poor thing, what a shit morning, well, this might cheer you up,’ Kate said excitedly. ‘I have some good news. We can view the house on Saturday morning.
The agent just called to confirm, and he’s meeting us there at 11.00 a.m.’

  Jake took a deep breath and let it out, hard. Kate could feel the stress coming down the phone and knew this would perk him up.

  ‘That’s great news, hon, it’s getting closer, I can feel it. Not long now until we have our dream home; you, me, and Sean. Listen, I’ll pick up dinner tonight, time to celebrate.’

  ‘Sounds good to me, what time are you back?’

  ‘Oh, the usual.’

  ‘OK, see ya then.’

  Kate hung up and tackled the washing. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Jake had been through and knew he didn’t need this added stress. After she’d called him back to make sure he was OK, she faced the stack of clothes that needed to be got through and never had enough hours in the day. Sean took up most of her time, and if she wasn’t running around after him, she had the flat to look after as well.

  ∞∞∞∞ Jake pulled off and tackled the traffic in the hope of arriving at work in one piece. He steered out of the side street and headed onto the main road, trying as best he could to barge his way out and become part of the long line of cars trawling along Euston. He waited for at least two minutes before a car flashed him twice to permit him to join the queue. As he did, he noticed a cyclist swerve out of his way racing around the bonnet and shouting, ‘shit head’ at the top of his voice. Charming! He was wearing a dust mask and donning a black vest top and cycling shorts. Jake held his hand up to apologise, and the cyclist disappeared down the hill. He thought about how much he used to love this city as he drove at a crawling pace. Nothing was better than the excitement and energy where he lived.

  Kate and Jake were never short of ideas for something to do, somewhere to go. They loved eating out, the theatre, going for walks in Hampstead Heath. So why had it all changed? He knew he had to get away, move, get some fresh air back in his lungs, some space, freedom. Life had to get better.

  ∞∞∞∞ Kate was busy putting the fresh washing away – the aroma filling their bedroom like perfume in a department store – when she heard the door go, signalling Jake’s return.

  ‘Hi, hun,’ she heard Jake say at the door.

  She rushed down and threw her arms around him.

  ‘Wow, what a welcome.’

  ‘I’m just happy things will get back to normal. I can feel it,’ she said, as she planted a huge kiss on his cheek. There was a perfect lipstick mark left glistening on his face. He was carrying a bunch of flowers to mark the mini celebration. They went into the kitchen together, and Kate opened the laptop which had been sitting on the table. The house they were going to see was already open on the page, and she zoomed in to get a closer look. Kate slid her finger across the screen from left to right. It showed the bedrooms, the kitchen, hall, upstairs, and garden. The house was situated in woodland. They didn’t know too much about the place, only that it was hidden away. There was ample parking, and the nearest village was a mile or so away.